Sugar on the Asphalt
by clumsy eloQuence 666
Summary: UNFINISHED. MWPP era, LilyJames, VERY AU. James Potter is the ultimate badass. Lily Evans was the reclusive, compassionate, antiboy good girl. Guess who the new head boy and girl are? Rated M for scenes in later chapters and swearing.
1. Badass and Co

**A/N: hola, my luvvlies! another james/lily MWPP-era fic, and this one's NOT A ONESHOT! go me. anywho, i'm in serious voldie-denial, so no voldemort and no peter, either, cuz peter's icky-sticky like moldy old peanut butter. so, this is TOTALLY AU--james potter is the ultimate badass at hogwart's, and lily evans is the reclusive, compassionate, anti-boy goody-two-shoes. guess who just made head boy and girl. fireworks, anyone? this chappie is slightly boring, methinks, so try to struggle through while i type up the next chap. enjoy!**

**o, and btw, the title comes from the lyrics of the Jimmy Eats World song "Bleed American," which I don't own!  
**

**Sugar on the Asphalt**

**. . . . .Badass and Co. . . . .**

"Fuck."

The perfected drawl and enunciation of that one word was quite enough to eloquently describe the opinion of James Potter at that moment.

He was a badass. Too harsh to be called a man-whore, and too dangerous to be dubbed a player. Every female that slid into his pants knew exactly what they were getting into: the fulfillment of every bad boy fantasy they had ever had, and more. He was indifferent to the point of being cruel, and it turned them on; he was reckless, impossible to penetrate, and never one to commit to anything he had fucked. They loved him. They pined for him, wept for him, cursed his name, swore vengeance against him. And they always came back for more.

At the hardened age of eighteen, there were five people in the world that James trusted. First was his father, who had raised him. Though Michael Potter may have been an alcoholic, though he may have been gruff and somewhat clueless when it came to raising James, James would always stick by him. James' mother had been a literal prostitute that hated Michael. They were never married; when she got pregnant with Michael's baby (it was his fault, she would always scream), Michael took her to his mansion and made her stay there for the nine months that she carried his baby. Less than three hours after James was born, she was gone, along with 2,000 galleons from the downstairs safe. She was never seen or heard of again. And so, James stuck by his father, feeling that they were, at least, comrades in the face of his mother's non-love.

The second person was Sirius Black. Black was a player, through and through. He had a sex appeal to match James' woman for woman, but unlike James, he liked his prey to believe that he knew their names before he had them in bed. He could charm his way out of anything, but beneath it all was a darker side of Sirius that made him more akin to James. Sirius' parents were muggle-hating purebloods. Every Black in the entire history of the world had been a supporter of evil in some way. Needless to say, they were far from happy when Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor, the most muggle-loving of the four the houses at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Sirius had run away from his house at the age of thirteen, claiming that he could do, "Whatever the fuck I want, and those whores can't do a thing about it." He took refuge at James' mansion. James' father didn't care, and neither did the social worker after he came to investigate and found evidence of the _Crucatious_ curse on Sirius' body.

The third person was Remus Lupin. It was a name that fit the boy aptly; he had been a werewolf since a young age when a bloodthirsty werewolf purposely placed himself near Remus' house on the night of the full moon. Remus had come to cope with the rejection that followed his transformation. His parents were well-meaning souls who had tried valiantly to deal with the new Remus, but it soon became apparent that they couldn't handle him around the full moon. The headmaster of Hogwart's had contacted them and made a proposition to take Remus on as a sort of apprentice at the school until he was of age to attend. He assured them that Remus would be taken care of, and despite their initial reluctance, Remus' parents let him go with a sense of relief. They still maintained contact with him, writing letters and coming to visit when their jobs would allow, but the letters were always awkward, and the meetings were uncomfortable. Remus had lost his childhood and parents in one fell swoop. As the years passed, he became quiet and reclusive, using his inconspicuousness to hide his secret and protect his heart. Over the summer breaks, he, too, had stayed at James' house; the extensive grounds and protective forest surrounding them provided the ideal environment for his monthly transformations.

The three of them, Sirius, Remus and James, had met during their first year at Hogwart's; all three had been sorted into Gryffindor. Their somewhat painful histories bonded them, but it was their personalities that forged a friendship that would last a lifetime. James was the leader of the three; his take-no-bullshit attitude and loyalty to his friends kept away those who might've pried deeper, those who might've ridiculed and degraded. Sirius brought out the humor and good memories in both boys. His somewhat cynical humor and love of mischief kept all three from closing up completely, and with Sirius there, the rough times were easier to stomach. Remus kept the other two grounded. He was extremely intelligent and observant, to the point of being genius; he kept them out of serious trouble, and held them back when they might've gone a step too far. When he couldn't persuade them to avoid trouble, Sirius was always there to smooth-talk their way out of it. They were all sharply intelligent when they cared to show it. The three of them formed a potentially dangerous trio, known throughout Hogwart's as the Marauders for their infamous means of revenge.

The fourth person that had earned James' trust was, surprisingly, one Minerva McGonagall, transfiguration professor at Hogwart's, and Head of the Gryffindor House. McGonagall was the only professor that had any of James' respect. She was a strict woman who showed little affection for any of her students, but the Marauders were a special case. She was just as, if not more, severe with them, especially after one of their many pranks, but Minerva McGonagall was off-limits for the entire school. If one misinformed student happened to attempt to prank McGonagall, he or she would be faced with the wrath of the Marauders. McGonagall was the only professor, besides the headmaster, with enough balls to stand up to the trio, and they were impressed by that, but there was more to their loyalty. She treated them with respect. Unlike some professors, who would try to make an example of the three when they got caught, McGonagall never resorted to humiliation. Her punishments were always standardized and fair. Also, she understood the boys better than any other adult, in her own way. She was something of a gruff grandmother to them; she made it clear what she expected, and if they failed her expectations, she would dole out the repercussions, and patiently resurrected her requirements.

The last person respected by James was the recently-appointed Headmaster of Hogwart's. Albus Dumbledore was a man that provoked fierce loyalty from the Marauders. He was ancient beyond his years, and his wealth of knowledge seemed endless. His uncanny understanding of James and his friends, together with his unending patience for their roller-coaster attitudes, as well as the support and trust he had given them throughout their years at Hogwart's, had earned him their highest regards.

And so ends the list. These five people were people that James would've trusted, admired, and respected, if he weren't too badass to admit it. Little did he know, a sixth was soon to come along, one that would strip him of all (well, some, at least) of his badassness. Of course, he should've been expecting it. He, of all people, should've known that Fate is sadistic that way.


	2. Surprise, Surprise

**A/N: aahh, yes, in which Lily is introduced and everything begins. i apologize fot the somewhat lengthy descriptions, but i wanted to set the scene. let me know if it's too much. enjoy, luvvies! btw, i need ideas for passwords for the Heads' tower. any ideas? lemme know, pretty please!****  
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**Sugar on the Asphalt**

**. . . . .Surprise, Surprise. . . . .**

James Potter got his letter from Hogwarts three weeks before term started. The letter was nothing out of the ordinary, a list of supplies and a short blurb welcoming him to Year Seven. As Head Boy.

James nearly did a double take at the two words. He turned the envelope upside down; the Head Boy badge _thunked_ softly into his large open palm. _Sirius_, he thought. _It must be Sirius._ Sirius would be the one to find humor in something like getting James to think he made Head only to make an ass of himself the first day back.

Sirius sauntered into the kitchen at that moment, as if knowing he was being thought of. James tossed him the badge.

"D'you do this?"

Sirius glanced at it.

"Nope."

James stared at him. "Are you sure, man, 'cause this has YOU written all over it."

"I'm telling you, wasn't me," he replied, his voice muffled as he rummaged in the muggle refrigerator for some orange juice.

"Must've been _someone_. No fuckin' way Dumbledore would appoint _me_ Head Boy."

Sirius spluttered, choking violently on the juice he was chugging straight from the carton. After a few seconds, he managed to suck in enough air to gasp out, "Head Boy?"

James nodded slowly. An evil grin slowly spread across Sirius' face. It started in his eyes, giving their chocolaty depths a mischievous spark; then his lips curled up at the corners, spreading into a purely Cheshire-Cat grin that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

"_You_ made Head Boy?"

James merely raised an eyebrow in reply.

Sirius' grin grew even bigger. He sauntered over to James and clapped him on the shoulder.

"I've said it once, and I'll say it a gain, Jamie m'boy. This year, we go out with a bang."

James raised the single eyebrow higher, and a smirk quirked one end of his lips at Sirius words.

* * *

"Surprise, Surprise," Lily Evans muttered to herself. "Look who made Head Girl."

She had, fortunately, received the letter by owl while her mother and older sister were out shopping together. Neither of them was comfortable with the idea of Lily being a witch. On top of that, Lily wasn't a girly-girl like her sibling and only parent. She wasn't fond of pink, and hardly ever wore skirts besides the uniform that she wore at Hogwart's. Her mother dealt with her abnormalities with relative indifference; she acted more like a distant aunt than Lily's mother, not cold, but not too warm either. Petunia, on the other hand, was slightly more venomous and resentful. Not that Lily really cared.

Lily had always been somewhat reclusive. She was intelligent, and quick-witted, but she had always preferred to keep to herself. Lily was the only girl her age in the neighborhood. Petunia, four years older than Lily, had bonded with the only other girl in the neighborhood, who was six years Lily's senior. The three of them had never played together due to conflict of interests. When Lily still wanted to play hide-and-seek, Petunia and her friend were preoccupied with boys.

Boys. The one thing Lily Evans would avoid at all costs. She didn't hate them as a whole. She had never been raped or abused. She was simply…uncomfortable around them. It was a deep-seated feeling. Lily Evans did not take risks. Lily Evans did not open her heart and mind for the world to see. And as such, Lily Evans, did not interact with very many boys. Her father had been the only man she had trusted until she was eleven, but he had died of cancer, which was incurable even in the wizarding world, during Lily's second year at Hogwart's. Despite the years that had passed since then, she still missed him a great deal.

The only other male that Lily could tolerate was, ironically, Remus Lupin. He was quiet, like Lily, although he lacked her temper. In third year, Lily had discovered Remus' secret, and had promised to keep it safe. Remus was almost surprised to find that Lily completely understood, accepted, and was even compassionate about his infliction. When he had experienced a particularly rough night, he could always count on a steaming pot of hot chocolate mixed with healing potion to be waiting for him on his nightstand when he got back, courtesy of Lily. There was always enough to share with his dorm-mates, namely the rest of the Marauders, if they stayed awake long enough to swallow it, but the pot was always near his bed. How Lily got it there was a mystery to him, but, frankly, he didn't care; it tasted good, and it the healing potion in it was better than any he had tolerated from Madame Pomfrey, the young mediwitch who worked in the hospital wing.

All-in-all, Lily didn't like the company of males. She had seen plenty of females ridiculed and broken by men; she had absolutely no desire to participate in that particular game of chance. She didn't like to consider herself stupid, and from what she could see, involving men in her life was just too risky to be anything but stupid. She had heard that most women were raped or abused by men they had relationships with, so it seemed prudent to avoid having any sort of relationship with very many men. It was logical. It was Lily Evans.

* * *

Lily Evans was late. It was her sister's fault; Petunia had insisted that she couldn't find her shoes, and therefore couldn't accompany her mother to the train station to send off Lily. Lily had offered to _accio_ the shoes for Petunia, as Lily was of age in the wizarding world, but Petunia refused to let any of her precious belongings be tainted by magic. Not that Lily had cared; she much preferred to spend her time away from Petunia. Lily's mom, however, had insisted on making the entire thing out to be a huge deal, which had lead to a lengthy argument, which in turn ended with Petunia locking herself in her room, and Lily being ten minutes late.

She had barely enough time to throw her arms around Meredith Evans in a haphazard hug before rushing off to lift her trunk onto the train. She turned around hastily, leaning as far out the window as she could to see her mom frantically waving and blowing kisses, shouting last-minute pieces of advice. Managing to slip her arm out the window along with her head, she returned smacked her lips into her palm twice and flung her arms toward the small figure as platform 9 and ¾ faded out of sight.

Her lips curved in a secret smile. Her mother was possibly the only person around which she would let go of logic and sense. They didn't get along very well, but the silly childhood habits kept them connected. Blowing kisses at her, for example; any teen she knew would've rolled his or her eyes and hurried away as quickly as possible. Not Lily.

She turned her head when the station disappeared altogether, allowing the wind to sweep her fiery locks out of her face and whip behind her like a standard. She closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of fresh fall air gently buffeting her cheeks and the steady rocking of the train.

"Excuse me, miss, but you cannot stick heads or arms out the window. I'm afraid you'll have to come in now."

Lily turned, pulling her head and arm back in from the window, to see a middle-aged, rotund porter regarding her kindly from watery blue eyes.

"Yes, of course," she replied with a small smile. "Forgive me."

He nodded to her, tipping his hat, before continuing on his way, whistling a merry tune.

Remembering that she needed to find the Heads' compartment, she grabbed the handle of her trunk and dragged towards the front of the train. She was almost there when a feminine voice called out from behind her.

"Lily! Oh how nice to see you again."

Lily twisted her torso to wave at Alice, a blonde-haired girl with a pleasant face and a wide, friendly smile.

"Hello Alice! Have a good vacation?"

"Oh yes, it was alright. Our last year here, eh?"

"Yes. I'll miss coming here, I can tell you that."

Alice sighed. "Won't we all, though."

"I really have to go now Alice. Save me a seat in the Great Hall!"

"Oh, I will. And congrats on being Head Girl and all that! D'you know who the Head Boy is yet?"

"Thanks, and no. I'm about to find out."

Alice waved her away cheerfully, turning to go back to her compartment.

Lily twisted around to enter the Heads' compartment, but her shoe caught n the carpet, pitching her forward wildly as the train lurched around a tight bend. She squeezed her eyes shut, preparing to hit the door to the compartment, but it never came. Her nose bumped into something that was rather hard, but before the rest of her could follow, two large hands gripped her forearms and steadied her.

"Thanks," she said breathlessly, opening her eyes to find herself staring at someone's chest. A man's chest.

_Please watch your step as we enter the realm of cheesy romance novels,_ Lily thought sarcastically.

* * *

She was small. Ridiculously small. He could only see the top of her carroty curls as she blinked at his chest once or twice, as if wondering why it was in front of her face. His hands easily encompassed the widest part of her arms. She tipped her head back to look into his face, her bottle-green eyes finding his and staring into them with a sort of blank befuddlement.

Neither moved for a long moment. The silence was broken when her petite hand came up to massage the tip of her nose, her eyes never breaking contact with his. Her brows furrowed together.

"Your chest is hard, Potter. If I didn't know better, I might be melodramatic enough to say that you broke my nose."

His eyebrow arched upwards slightly.

"And that was not a compliment."

James shrugged, but a smirk still seemed to hover on his lips.

Lily stared back at him, cocking her hip to the left and placing a fist upon it. The other arm was occupied with a carrier from which a small grey cat blinked at him with pale green eyes.

They stood like this for about a minute until James folded his arms and said, "You're not going to get an apology."

He could see the mild exasperation in the girl's eyes. "You do realize, Potter, that I can't apparate on the Hogwart's train."

James did smirk this time. "And?"

"And because I can't apparate, I can't get into the Heads' compartment unless you move."

"And if I don't?"

"Well fine then, we can conduct the Heads' business out here in the corridor." She sat on her trunk and leaned back against the wall, placing the kitty-carrier down on the floor beside her, and folded her arms across her chest. The position put her vary close to some unmentionable places on James' body, but she didn't seem to notice, and if she did, she didn't care.

James backed into the doorway, giving Lily a mocking bow and motioning her in. Rising to her feet in one elegant movement, she inclined her head to him imperiously, a sarcastic gleam in her eyes.

James grinned wolfishly at her back while she levitated the trunk into the carrier above the seats. It wasn't often that he encountered someone his age who could so easily act indifferent to his mocking. It would be interesting to see how far he had to go to get a rise out of her.

She turned around and sat down. "Let's get this over with, shall we?"

James reclined in the seat opposite the one Lily had taken, lounging casually, still grinning at her with a predatory gleam in his eye.

"Yes, let's," he drawled. The grin only widened when she cocked her eyebrow at him, obviously unimpressed.

* * *

After the start-of-year feast, Lily and James were lead by McGonagall to the portrait of the four founders of Hogwarts in a one of Hogwart's many towers.

"Password?" they demanded as one.

"Walloping wallaroos," McGonagall responded primly. The founders nodded, and the painting swung open.

"You may change the password any time you like as long as both of you agree to it," she remarked over her shoulder, leading them into the Heads' Rooms. "I would recommend that you change it once a week for safety purposes," she added.

Lily had no time to respond before she was swallowed in the majesty of the Head's common room. It was magnificent, just like the rest of Hogwart's. There were a large couch and two overstuffed chairs ringing an enormous fireplace to one side of the room. Lush carpeting ran almost all over the room. It gave way to tiles on the side opposite the fireplace, where there was a small kitchenette, complete with a stovetop, and a counter, and cabinets. The entire room was decorated in rich ivories, blues, purples, and golds. _Funny,_ Lily pondered to herself. _I would've thought it would be decorated in Gryffindor colors. I wonder why it isn't._

Tall windows flanked either side of the room, flooding the floor with light from the almost-full moon.

_Remus_, Lily thought absently. It would be much easier to help Remus if James brought his friend back to the Heads' tower after their excursions, which he would. The kitchenette could probably double as a sort of apothecary, as well, useful for concocting potions.

Lily was brought back from her musings by McGonagall's voice.

"Well, here you have it. If you have any questions, or if you need anything, there is a bell pull over by the fireplace where you can summon a house elf. Miss Evans' room is to the left, and Mister Potter's room is to the right. You're trunks are up there. I'll leave you two to settle in. The first prefects' meeting will be tomorrow afternoon. Goodnight."

McGonagall's words brought Lily's attention to the wall farthest from her. Two elegant staircases spiraled towards the high ceiling, ending in small balconies that disappeared into two doors. One was engraved with the letters "LE" in gold script. Beneath that, a Gryffindor lion reared in pride. James' door was similarly adorned with "JP" and a lion facing in the opposite direction to Lily's.

Eager to see her room, Lily bustled up the stairs. When she reached for the doorknob, a golden light enclosed her hand. Cautiously, she continued, wrapping her slender fingers around the handle. The light flashed, and then disappeared; the door swung open silently, as if it didn't want to take away from the majesty of the room it revealed.

An enormous, king-sized, four-poster bed devoured an entire half of the room. Two of large windows, similar to those in the common room, framed a lovely maple desk and a bookshelf lined neatly with numerous volumes. There was a dresser as well, and another overstuffed chair. The entire room was furnished in delicate lavender, creamy yellow, and soft blue.

There was a door in the right wall, next to the dresser, that presumably led to a bathroom that joined her room to James'. Feeling curious, Lily went for it and pulled it open. James was in there as well, inspecting the large bathtub and shower that took up one wall. Two sinks, each with their own mirror and cabinets, occupied the other wall.

Satisfied with her findings for the night, Lily scampered out of the bathroom and flopped onto her stomach on her bed, lazily flicking her wand at her trunk to summon her nightgown.

She sighed, curling up under the luxurious warmth of her thick quilt, falling asleep almost instantly.

* * *

James watched Lily's antics from the darkened doorway of the bathroom. He had, regrettably, only noticed that she had left her bathroom door open after she had changed.

That he regretted it puzzled James. The only type of woman he usually allowed himself to get involved with were the sort of bimbos that, if you had never met one, you might think only existed in suburban legends, so vast was their ditzy-ness. "Involved" might have been too strong a word; all he really did was fuck them, plain and simple.

Lily was anything but simple. It was more than her looks, although those were undeniably out of the ordinary; her personality was more complex than he had imagined. He had never really paid attention to her before then; they had staged minor explosions every now and then when James and his friends took a prank too far. James usually took the blunt force of her annoyance when these spats occurred, but he had always assumed that she of those snobbish, superior girls with a stick permanently lodged up an unmentionable orifice, and so he had never consorted with her aside from their regular conflicts.

Upon closer inspection, however, Lily Evans seemed to have depth to her. A depth that was well-guarded it seemed. The idea intrigued him. Perhaps Lily Evans was someone worth knowing.

His head churning with these thoughts, James turned in for the night.


	3. Intrigue, etc

**A/N: boo ya way! go me for updating! here it is, my darlinks, the third chapter! had a lil bit of writer's block there, but now i know where i'm going with this and how i'm gonna get there. wahoo:) anyways, on with the plot!  
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**Sugar on the Asphalt**

**. . . . .Intrigue at Their Majesties' Royal Court and a Staring Contest. . . . .**

The days passed in monotonous similarity for Lily. She would wake up each morning at six o'clock exactly, take a nice hot shower (which, consequently, woke James up each morning at ten past six exactly), don her uniform, gather her books and homework, and head off to breakfast. The routine continued from there with only a few alterations. Occasionally there was a minor crisis that required her attention, or planning that needed to be done. She was expecting James to bring Remus back to the Heads' tower on the nights of the full moon, but was surprised to find that neither of them had even entered the common room. She'd have to rectify that, she thought. She couldn't very well let Remus go untended, and while his friends were certainly adept at a number of spells, she got the impression that they were usually too exhausted properly care for him until morning.

And then there was James Potter. He had yet to really disrupt her familiar routine. He was becoming quite unnerving, though; she would catch him staring intently at her, and even when she looked at him, he wouldn't stop. Along with his observation came insults that stung. She didn't like it, she decided, frowning at her almost-finished Advanced Potions essay. He had too many opportunities to get close to her, and getting closer meant that he would have more ammunition to fire at her.

Her faults, like small cracks in porcelain, weren't easily visible from a distance; the closer one got, however, the more obvious they became, and the easier they became to exploit and break wider. James Potter liked to break weak people; she knew that much from watching him with his daily fucks. He always took particular care to humiliate them with barbed comments. In a way, it scared Lily. She didn't want to deal with that, plain and simple.

With a slight flourish, she finished off her Potions essay. The observation could work both ways, and if Potter tried to verbally attack her, she wanted to be sure that she could launch a few barrages of her own. With a smirk, Lily promised herself that she would do her best to gather details about James Potter. And she would, of course, start with Remus.

* * *

As the weeks went on, Lily Evans became more and more of an obsession for James Potter. He had started watching with the intention of merely watching her, but it was becoming more frustrating for him, and at the same time, more addicting. She had no deep flaws; or if she did, she hid them very well. The flaws that she did have, she was not afraid to show, for the most part; however, none of these flaws could be used to break her. And he was no longer quite sure that he wanted to break he, per se.

Her flaming hair and bottle-green eyes were obvious attention-attractors, and her milky skin certainly offset them nicely. But it was the small things that drew James' attention.

The way her nostrils flared slightly when she took a deep breath or laughed particularly hard. The way that the tops of her calves would peek over her stockings when she was sitting; he noticed that sometimes she didn't bother to shave her legs, but the light fuzz was barely visible. The way the corners of her eyelashes snagged when she was sleepy. The way she didn't bother to cover the small red blemishes that sometimes appeared on the middle of her cheeks. The fact that she had no dimples, and would probable have very deep laugh lines framing her mouth when she got older. The way she would slouch down in her chair when she was reading. The way she would stretch when she had finished her homework late in the evening, extending her arms over her head, arching her back, and curling her toes up, unabashedly stretching every body part.

There were other things, too, all of which James took note of. If James Potter were the sort of person to be baffled, he would have been. But he wasn't that sort of person. And so, he accepted it. He might not have bothered to mention it to anybody, and whether or not his friends noticed wasn't a point of interest for James; they knew better than to mention it right away. You see, James, for all his badassness, wasn't usually the typical confused male teenager. He didn't waste time trying to figure out emotions and what they meant; he knew what he wanted, when he wanted it. The "why he wanted" was irrelevant; he wanted because he wanted. It got no simpler than that.

Now, his only challenge was getting Miss Perfect Prefect to trust him enough to open up to him, to show him more.

* * *

It was a late night in the Heads' common room, nearly midnight. Lily sat on the couch directly across from the fireplace, slouching over a two-foot-long essay for transfiguration. She had three-quarters of it done already. It would have been finished by now had not Potter and his friends driven her out of the common room with their relentless teasing and small pranks, and then proceeded to bounce a quaffle off the closed (and locked) door of her bedroom for exactly two hours, nine minutes, and thirty-eight or so seconds.

They had abandoned the room about an hour ago in favor of an illicit foray to the kitchens. Lily had crept quietly out of her room, almost fearing that the silence was faked in order to lure her from her bedroom. All she had found was Potter, reclined in one of the armchairs in front of the fire. Sighing in relief, she had been able to get back to work.

Now, as she scribbled away, pausing now and then to ponder her wording, she was intensely aware of Potter's eyes on her. In fact, she was quite sure that they were boring holes through her shirt. K_nowing Potter, I wouldn't be surprised_, she thought with an inward snort. Nevertheless, it was distracting and extremely irritating.

She glanced up at him, boldly catching his gaze in an attempt to make him look away. He didn't. He just sat there, coolly studying her eyes while she bit her tongue in frustration. She nearly screamed when he let his eyes wander obviously to her chest, where, she realized, they must be getting quite a show.

Tightening her lips in sheer annoyance, she did up the top two buttons on her blouse, and silently prayed that she wouldn't start sweating too profusely. She could practically _hear_ his smirk.

Seven minutes later, he hadn't given up. Despite himself, he let out a small chuckle at the sight of her tense form. Slowly, she lifted her narrow gaze to his, killing him six ways from this Friday with her eyes alone. _He's laughing at me!_ she screamed inside her head. _I can see it in his eyes! He thinks this is FUNNY! _She let out an aggravated breath through her nose, and leaned over her work again.

James was nearly dying trying to hold in his laughter. He knew she noticed; her quill was coming close to ripping the parchment as she scratched away furiously.

Three minutes later, when she had nearly reached the end of her essay, the quill stopped. She sat there for a moment, staring blankly at the parchment before her. Her eyes darted to the open textbook at her left, rapidly scanning the page nearest to her. The corners of her lips pinched together in a slight scowl. Aware of James' eyes still on her, she turned and dug in the book bag sitting to the right of her, pulling out the little red notebook, which James recognized as the one she kept her assignments in.

She flipped the book open violently to the marker that held her place. Her eyes flitted over it once, twice, before she snapped it shut, shoving it back into the bag. She turned once more the textbook, the scowl becoming more prominent as she obviously did not find what she wanted. James' smirk widened; he knew what was coming next.

She glanced up at him; the fingers gripping her quill tightened until her knuckles were white and the quill was on the verge of snapping. He could see her mentally preparing herself, drawing in a deliberate breath before lifting her head up to meet his gaze.

"Potter. Would you happen to know the fourth effect of a poorly done animungus transformation? This book only lists three, and it's too late to go get a new one from the library." He caught the unspoken _thanks to you and your friends_ that filled the silence after her question. He could see her inwardly cringe as his delight at her question became apparent in his eyes.

"Do mine ears deceive me?" he drawled. "Does the Miss Perfect Prefect need…" Here he trailed off for dramatic effect, enunciating the next word with cutting precision. "_Help_?"

Lily stiffened in reaction to the taunt, silently berating herself for even asking, and immediately began to gather her things.

"Now, now Lily, no need to get all offended. _Almost_ everybody needs help once in a while, you know," he added with an arrogant smirk.

"I am not afraid to ask for _help_, Potter. I have simply decided that it's not worth it to have to put up with _you_ to get it," she ground out, rising to her feet. She had made it halfway to her room when a large hand caught her wrist. She spun around furiously.

"Oh no, _Potter_," she spat. "Please, don't bother yourself to get up for _me_. You shouldn't _exert_ yourself, you know, you do have a Quidditch match in only a _week_."

Her green eyes blazed at him. She was annoyed with him, yes, but he could see that she was even more annoyed at herself.

He leaned his head a tiny bit closer, keeping his eyes locked with hers. She was surprised to see that they held much less amusement than before. Now they were more staid than laughing.

"I never figured you," he started, his voice low and deliberate. "For the sort of person to get all worked up over one little nickname, _Lily_."

The anger in her eyes didn't diminish one bit.

"Why are you '_figuring_' me at all, _James_?" she bit back, leaning away from him.

He didn't answer, knowing it wasn't something he couldn't put in to words, and not willing to let her in on that just yet. He merely held her gaze intensely, leaning foreword in the smallest of increments that she didn't notice until he was inches away from her. When he finally spoke, his words were barely above a whisper, and just as measured as before.

"Why do you let it get to you?"

She sighed forcefully, turning her head to break his gaze.

"Why should I tell you?" Her eyes weren't nearly as narrow as before, but her voice had become carefully guarded.

"Why not?"

She shot him a disbelieving glance.

"Why not?" Her voice was tinged with incredulity. "Because you're James Potter."

"I could change my name," he offered with the slightest of grins.

She turned her head back to catch his gaze once again.

"Because I don't know what you want from me. Because every thing I tell you can and will be used against me. Because it's stupid and I don't need to be ridiculed right now," she finished with an exasperated tone.

"Ah."

"Yes. Exactly."

She tugged her wrist out of his grasp and fled up the stairs, her shiny black shoes clunking unabashedly on the hardwood. He let her go, watching her disappear around the curve of the staircase.

* * *

"So, mate," Sirius began teasingly, slinging his arm over James' shoulder, using the other to help himself to large portions of that morning's breakfast.

"What's this I hear about you and Lily Evans? Caught snogging in broom closet? And you didn't tell me? I'm hurt!" He placed his hand over his heart, gazing accusingly at James in an over-dramatic display.

"Personally, I'm surprised you got caught," rasped Remus, dropping into the seat across from James and Sirius. The Great Hall was nearly empty, it being an early morning on a weekend. Most everyone there was quiet, except for a gaggle of Hufflepuff girls on one end of their table, who were catching up on the latest gossip.

James rolled his eyes at his friends, pausing to scrutinize Remus with narrowed eyes. "You don't look so hot, Rem," he commented.

"Shpecially not compared ta me," Sirius added, not bothering to gulp down a particularly large mouthful of bacon. His voice took on a more serious tone, though, when he added, "James has a point, though, man. You getting enough sleep?"

Remus sighed wearily. "I s'pose. Full moon's coming up, but I still don't feel like I fully recovered from the last one. I'll have to get some more of that hot chocolate from Lily."

"Speaking of a certain Miss Evans…" Sirius trailed off suggestively, rolling his head around to stare directly at James, who ignored him.

"That was Evans?" he inquired of Remus.

"You didn't know?" he lifted his eyes to James in mild surprise. James just shook his head slowly. "Figures," he observed. "But this means she knows about…"

"Me, at least," Remus finished for him. "And she knows you come with me, but I'm not sure if she knows about you guys being…you know."

"Hey!" Sirius exclaimed. "This means we can crash at _Jamie's_ place instead of sneaking around the dorms." He looked smug at his revelation.

"I believe that was the point James was getting at, Sirius," Remus remarked dryly.

Sirius made a face at him. Remus raised an eyebrow in reply. Grumbling, Sirius turned back to the mounds of food laid out before him. His attention was diverted when James got up abruptly, striding out of the Great Hall.

"Hey! Hey, wait, James, you didn't finish you breakfast!" Sirius called after him. He turned to Remus. "And he didn't tell us about Miss Evans." He looked forlorn for a moment, but then his expression turned gleeful. Remus groaned, anticipating what was coming.

"You know what this means, Remmy!" Sirius exclaimed, ignoring Remus' muffled, "Merlin, do I know!" as he buried his face in his hands.

"We're going to have to find out for ourselves! Agent Moony, your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to accompany Agent Padfoot on reconnaissance. Commence Mission Prongs and Flower."

Remus' head hit the table with an alarming bang. He deeply regretted introducing Sirius to the world of spy movies the summer before last. He wondered idly if there was any way he could convince Sirius to let him perform a memory charm on him…or if merely doing it without permission would work better. "I don't accept," he insisted.

"Oh yes, you do, Moony," Sirius informed him curtly. "Now, where to begin?"

Remus sighed heavily. Sirius ignored him.

"Aha, I have it! Phase One: gather rumors from Hufflepuff House, I think. Shouldn't be to hard, what with my irresistible charm and your, er, highly skilled…paying-attention-ed-ness abilities…" Trailing off, he began to sidle over to the group of girls sitting at the Hufflepuff table. Remus groaned, but got up to follow him nevertheless.


	4. Agents DoubleohSix and DoubleohEight

**A/N: Look who updated!! w00t! lol, more soon, cos I actually have a PLAN! Hallelujah! lol, anyways, here it is. Enjoy, my darlings! O, and this chappie is a tad more lemony. No sex, you pervs! Well, not yet, anyways. But there is a little bit of 'sexually suggestive' and all that salsa. Nothing to worry about; I thought it only fair to warn you.  
**

* * *

**Sugar on the Asphalt**

**. . . . .Agents Double-oh-Six and Double-oh-Eight. . . . .**

"Sirius, will you please be as considerate as to SHUT UP?"

"Moony, Moony, Moony," Sirius admonished. "Everyone _knows_ that spies can't go anywhere without the proper theme song. I mean, were you even _paying attention_ to those James Bond movies? Did you even _notice_ how, whenever Bond is spying on someone, he has to wait until the music comes on?"

"Padfoot, I truly marvel at your inability to grasp the concept of a soundtrack."

"A what?"

"Never mind."

"I thought that's what you'd say, Agent Double-oh-Eight."

"Agent what?"

"Well, Moony, you could've been Agent Double-oh-Six, but I thought it suited me better."

"I'm almost afraid to ask, having experienced your brain-melting logic, but why would it suit you better?"

"Why, Moony, it should be obvious! S-I-X is one letter away from S-E-X, which is only another letter away from S-E-X-Y, which, I'm sorry to have to break it to you, suits me much better than you."

"Are you calling me un-sexy?"

"Not at all! You're just not nearly as sexy as me."

"Oh, well now I feel much better."

"You should. After all, I _am_ the sexiest being to ever grace this universe, so saying that you're not as sexy as me is like saying that carrots aren't as orange as oranges, but that doesn't mean that the carrots aren't orange at all, simply _less_ orange than the orange itself."

"Padfoot?"

"Yes, agent double-oh-eight?"

"Did you just compare sexiness to the color orange?"

"I will have you know that orange is a very sexy color."

"_Merlin help us…_"

"Merlin won't do you any good by now, Moony."

"Don't I know it."

* * *

"So what have we concluded from our reconnaissance mission, agent double-oh-eight?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing what?"

"_Sirius_," Remus warned.

"Moony! Say it!"

"Nothing, Master." Remus accompanied the snide remark with a mocking bow.

"_Moony_," Sirius whined petulantly. "Say it _right_!"

Remus sighed heavily. Sirius molded his facial features into the most compelling-slash-pouty face he could muster; Remus could really only faintly detect the "compelling" part as the "pouty" part was clearly dominant. "Pouty Sirius" was not a pleasant person, Remus had decided years ago. He caved.

"Nothing, agent double-oh-six."

"'Nothing, agent double-oh-eight?' That's the best you can do!? C'mon Moony, you're s'posed to be _good_ at this observation nonsense."

"Your obsequiousness is astounding, Padfoot. Really, who knew you had such a way with flattery?"

"Your sarcasm is _not_ appreciated, double-oh-eight," Sirius growled.

Remus raised an eyebrow at him and growled louder.

Sirius glared. Fiercely. If looks could kill, Sirius would bet that Remus would be six feet under, pushing up weeds. In fact, even a hint of Sirius' glare made mere mortals cower in fear. Remus laughed.

There were times when Sirius was greatly annoyed by the fact that Remus was far from mortal.

"Remus! Come _on_!"

"Fine." He was still chuckling to himself. "We know that the password to the Heads' room is 'Mrs. Lily Potter,' and I'd bet a galleon that she wanted to castrate James when she found out."

"Hmmm. A useful bit of information. I wonder what the Heads' common room looks like at midnight?"

Remus rolled his eyes eloquently in reply. "Oh yes, _I wonder_," he muttered sarcastically. Sirius shot him a sharp glance.

"We know that darling Lily is _very_ good at placing charms, and that _I_ am very good at breaking them," Remus continued with a self-satisfied smirk.

"And we know that Miss Lily is the cotton-panties type, _but_ that she has a set of red silk…what?" he trailed off at the incredulous look that Remus was giving him.

"When did you look in her…_unmentionables_ drawer? _Why_ were you looking in her unmentionables drawer!?"

"Ah Moony," Sirius sighed dramatically. "You have so _much_ to learn. Did no one ever tell you that the only way to discover the inner workings of a girl is to look in their _panties_ drawer?" Sirius smirked when Remus flinched at the use of the word "panties," but then Remus' face became thoughtful.

"Well, what if they were a gag gift?" he wondered out loud.

"Why would she bring them to Hogwarts?" Sirius countered.

"Maybe someone gave them to her this year."

"Why hasn't she gotten rid of them, then?"

Remus pondered it for a moment. "I honestly don't know," he replied after a moment. "But then again, we haven't seen her pant-" he glances accusingly at Sirius. "I mean _unmentionables_ drawer at home. Maybe she only brings things to Hogwarts that wouldn't embarrass her. Remember fifth year, when somebody's spell in Charms went wrong and her entire unmentionables drawer flew into the room? And all of them had things like 'My Little Pony' and 'Care Bears' on them?"

"Well, she needn't have been so embarrassed. It was quite the fad in the muggle world at the time—why, even what's-her-face, that blonde muggle-born from Hufflepuff, had those. She had one for every day of the week…except she was missing Saturday, I think," Sirius mused.

Remus gaped at him. "You don't remember her _name_, but you remember what was on her _panties_!?" he exclaimed.

Sirius grinned devilishly. "Why, Moony, I believe you just said the P-word!"

Remus flushed and started muttering things about 'bad influences.' Sirius' grin merely widened.

* * *

"Alright, Jamsie, we give up!" Sirius flopped haphazardly next to James onto the couch in the Heads' common room. Remus took the chair across from them.

James shot Sirius a glance. "You give up on what?" he inquired warily. "And who is 'we?'"

"'We' is Remus and me. And we give up on trying to figure you and Lily out. So spill," Sirius demanded.

"Spill what?"

"Have you and Lily f-"

"SIRIUS!" Remus cut him off with a warning look.

"What?" he shot back innocently. "Haven't you ever heard the f-word before, Moony?" Remus just shook his head and buried his face in his hands.

Sirius turned back to James, his gray eyes glinting wickedly. "Moony is incredibly easy to corrupt, did you know that?" James rolled his eyes, but a grin was tugging at the corners of his lips.

"No," James deadpanned.

"Well, he is. You should see how easy it is to get him to say panties," Sirius continued.

"Sirius," James interrupted. "I mean _no_."

Sirius looked at him for a moment before grasping James' meaning.

"But why not?"

"Sirius."

"What?"

"We don't all fuck _before_ the first date."

Sirius paused, obviously debating between being offended and replying with a witty retort. The side in him that felt it was his duty to embarrass as many people as possible won out over the bratty, childish side.

"So you admit that you want to fuck her?"

It would have been convenient for Lily to come through the doorway at that precise moment and start screaming at Sirius. But James had no such luck.

"Yes."

"Aw, c'mon, Prongsie, you can trust—wait, what?! Fuck, that's it?! Just a 'yes'? No fight or anything!"

"Yes."

"MOONY!"

"What _now_, Sirius? You got what you wanted, didn't you?"

"But we just wasted an _entire_ Saturday afternoon!" Sirius bemoaned his fate loudly. "Merlin's balls!"

"What about them, Sirius?" Remus countered. Sirius shot him a dark look in response. Then his face brightened. An evil smirk drew his lips up into a villain-worthy 'V' and his eyes alit with pure evil delight.

"Well," he drawled as nonchalantly as possible, although it was belied by his expression. "I suppose we didn't waste the _entire_ afternoon." The two boys shot each other wary looks as Sirius paused for dramatic effect.

"After all, Moony did say 'panties.'"

A second-year who happened to be rushing past their room stopped short at the sound of a spine-tingling cackle. Then he jumped as a low growl slowly overpowered the evil laugh, and an almighty crash cut it short. The second-year jumped, cast a wide-eyed look about him, and hurried on his way, looking over his shoulder every few steps until he turned a corner.

* * *

Lily was disgruntled. Well, perhaps a little more than disgruntled.

You see, Lily was an organized person. Not that she was neurotic and pushy about it, but she liked knowing what belonged where, and went about it in her own quiet way. So one would think that she knew the contents of her own unmentionables drawer.

This is why the plethora of thongs and teddies in multitudinous colors and materials that she now found befuddled her. They had most certainly _not_ been there this morning. And very few people had access to the Heads' dorms, much less her room. She doubted it was James; this was hardly his style, from what she could tell.

Which left…

Hmm. But why?

A crash from the common room startled her out of her thoughts. With a start, she looked towards the door. From the shouts coming below, she doubted it was James alone who was down there. And as the shouting escalated, an idea snaked her way into her mind. Lily was hardly one for being consumed with revenge, but this was too good to pass up. All it would take was a few alterations with her wand and a whole lot of gullible girls.

* * *

James had just gotten the two rambunctious canines to leave when Lily Evans came sauntering down the stairs with one hand behind her back.

James rose warily.

"Oh, Potter, there you are. I have a question, if you don't mind. Do you have any idea where _this_ came from? And the others that were with it?"

From behind her back, Lily whipped out a pair of slinky purple panties. Upon closer examination, James realized that they were slinky purple _crotchless_ panties.

Had he been a less worldly man, James would've choked on his own spit.

As it was, he managed to coolly raise an eyebrow, face nearly expressionless.

"I can't say that I do, Evans."

She smirked.

And James' mind paused.

Since when did Evans posses such a devious smirk?

"I thought not. But do you have any idea whether, oh, say, one of your friends might have been up in my rooms today? The one who's not Remus or Peter."

It took him a moment to absorb what she was saying. _Sirius…slinky purple CROTCHLESS…in Evans' panties drawer?!_

"It's possible."

"Yes, I suspected so. Do me a favor, will you Potter?"

"Depends," he replied noncommittally.

"Oh, it won't require any direct participation on your part. Just don't warn him."

Deciding that it would be much more amusing not to spoil Evans' fun, James nodded and sat back down.

As she sashayed back up the stairs to her rooms, obviously lost to a world of gleeful plotting, James couldn't help but idly speculate if she still wore those Care Bears panties from fifth year.


End file.
